[The last time they spoke, Kavinsky had been running from lawmen, the stale air of a marketplace beating on his face. He'd made a mistake; he'd antagonized another Hivemate without knowing the extent of the little prick's powers. And Darkling, wanting to avoid having to spring K out of the local jail, had shoved him into an alley and gave a warning. Those are the details Kavinsky is left with, the exacts long forgotten because the Darkling has been gone.
But he's luckier than Sirius that lays in a permanent state of Sleeping Grizzled Beauty. And unlike Sirius, Darkling never had Kavinsky visiting his faux-gravesite, wondering whether he'd hear nails scratching against the pod.
Someone, now gone, too, told him that the coma Nest members fall into is dreamless; Kavinsky would be locked in a box he couldn't pick his way out of if the same fate swung a noose around him.]
(Try not to jizz on the glass.)
[It's a suggestion, really, and decidedly not an answer to the question posed. Kavinsky's not even close to the Darkling, standing on the opposite side of the Hall on level two, pretending to take in the beauty of an abstract painting that looks, to him, like the vomited end result of a night mixing pills with gin.]
Naerstone House
But he's luckier than Sirius that lays in a permanent state of Sleeping Grizzled Beauty. And unlike Sirius, Darkling never had Kavinsky visiting his faux-gravesite, wondering whether he'd hear nails scratching against the pod.
Someone, now gone, too, told him that the coma Nest members fall into is dreamless; Kavinsky would be locked in a box he couldn't pick his way out of if the same fate swung a noose around him.]
( Try not to jizz on the glass. )
[It's a suggestion, really, and decidedly not an answer to the question posed. Kavinsky's not even close to the Darkling, standing on the opposite side of the Hall on level two, pretending to take in the beauty of an abstract painting that looks, to him, like the vomited end result of a night mixing pills with gin.]